


Loosen Up

by septemberprudence



Category: Formula 1 RPF, MotoGP RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 23:45:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5394722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septemberprudence/pseuds/septemberprudence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fernando can't remember if they've met. Set at the recent Honda day at Motegi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loosen Up

They must have met before, Fernando thought. They had to have. The world they both inhabited was rarefied enough that the odds of them never having crossed paths would be very, very small.

But Fernando couldn't remember ever having met Marc Marquez. And he was pretty sure that he _would_ remember meeting Marc Marquez. 

Because while Fernando had always been one for a nice ass, he was particular about what he liked. Nothing too small, for a start. Something high and firm and _solid_ , something you could sink your teeth into, something that could fill out a pair of jeans just right. Or, in this case, a set of leathers.

And the sight of Marc Marquez's ass? That wasn't something Fernando would easily forget. He was used to other racing drivers, who needed to be strong but couldn't afford to bulk up in that area. The cars were narrow, their space limited. A motorcycle was a different beast entirely, a far more physical experience. Fernando knew exactly how much riders used their bodies to control the bike, and Marquez had the ass to prove it. 

He turned suddenly, catching Fernando's stare. 

Fernando raised his gaze, meeting Marc's eyes, but didn't look away.

Marc only smiled at him, unflustered.

.

The leathers were weirdly constricting, tight in unexpected places, yet somehow they were also freeing. A race suit was something you wore, but these felt as if they'd become _part_ of you, given enough time. A second skin worn over one's own, smooth yet unforgiving.

Marc was facing away from Fernando, and he bent over, grabbing his ankles, then squatted on the ground, knees wide, using his elbows to push them even wider.

"You want to get your knee down, you've got to stretch," he said, back over his shoulder. "Loosen up."

"That makes sense," Fernando said, nodding.

He wasn't even pretending anymore, ogling Marc's ass so openly he swore he could feel his mouth watering at the prospect of it. There were people all around them in the garage, and Fernando knew he should be less obvious, but he was way past caring what anyone thought.

It had been a bad year.

Perhaps this, at least, could be something good.

.

Later, when they were assembling for the group picture, Marc asked, neutral and casual, "You staying at the hotel?" Everyone who was anyone stayed at the hotel in Motegi, the rooms booked out for all the Honda VIPs.

"Yeah," Fernando replied. "Room 429."

Marc grinned. "Right on top of me." His face was the picture of innocence, as if he hadn't the slightest idea that what he'd said could be taken as even remotely suggestive. "Maybe I'll come up and see you, we can have a drink or something."

"Maybe." Fernando concentrated on sounding disinterested, but he wasn't fooling anyone. Not even himself.

.

Fernando showered, but didn't bother dressing, throwing on a robe. 

He opened the door for Marc silently, and the second it closed behind them, he was slammed up against the hard, flat surface, Marc's tongue so aggressive in his mouth it was as if he was being _devoured_ , swallowed whole. Fernando only wanted to forget, and this was perfect.

He turned them around, pushing Marc to face the door, roughly raising his arms over his head. And Marc understood immediately, bracing himself on his hands, ass stuck out behind him so temptingly it was all Fernando could do to control himself. 

He pressed up behind Marc, reaching around to unfasten his jeans, shoving his hand inside, stroking Marc's cock, fondling his balls, waiting until he heard Marc's breath quicken and gasp. He licked Marc's neck, used his other hand to scratch at his nipples through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

_"Fuck,"_ Marc whispered, and Fernando sank down on to his knees. He pulled Marc's jeans and underwear down to reveal his ass, every bit as magnificent as he could have imagined, then heard himself growl, low and fierce, baring his teeth, biting into thick, solid muscle. 

He sucked on the flesh, hard enough to leave bruises, first one side and then the other, taking his fill, then finally spread Marc wide, tongue licking slowly up the crease of his ass, over his hole. He circled it, gently dipping in with the tip of his tongue, listening to Marc's bitten-off cries, the stuttered pleas of _oh god_ and _I can't_ as he slipped his tongue inside, fucking in and out.

Marc was whining; small, desperate noises that make Fernando's cock throb with longing, but he didn't stop, didn't even pause.

"Can…" Marc said, and the word was broken off into a moan. "Can I touch myself?"

"Yes," Fernando replied. "I want you to come."

And while he couldn't see, he could feel it, the way Marc was jacking himself, rough and hard enough that his muscles tensed and released with every stroke.

He was so open, so _wet_ from Fernando's tongue, and all Fernando could think about was how his cock would feel, sliding into that heat.

Marc let out a brief shout, hips thrusting forward. He'd come into his hand, and after he caught his breath, he reached back behind himself, wiping thick smears of white over his ass.

Fernando licked him clean, lingering over the bite marks he'd left, worrying at them enough that Marc breathed in sharply, laughing breathlessly at his own reaction.

When Fernando finally sat back, Marc turned around, leaning back against the door, looking down at Fernando, not saying anything.

He was so young, Fernando thought. He couldn't remember ever being that young. "If I fuck you," he asked, "can you come again?"

"Probably," Marc said, shrugging. He smiled, and for once there was nothing innocent about it. "If you do it right, definitely." 

Fernando looked back at him. "I can do it right," he said.

"Then let's go," Marc replied, holding out his hand, and Fernando didn't hesitate.


End file.
